


On Love: Agape

by kafrickinboom



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Emotions™, Explicit Language, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair Kink, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecurity, JJ wisdom, M/M, Minor language kink, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Panic Attacks, Rated T until the end tbh, Rostelecom Cup, Sequel, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Viktor's kind of a dick?, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom
Summary: Sure, his Dedushka was (and still is) his original agape, and was responsible for his burgeoning understanding of the emotion - no one could take away from his grandfather's importance - but the comprehension always felt a bit...stunted, like the reach of Yuri's understanding fell short of the true scope of the emotion. Yesterday, he found what was missing in the form of one Yuuri Katsuki.(Sequel toDon't Hide)





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Sequel to [Don't Hide](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9306497)**
> 
> I really wanted to write the day after from Yurio's perspective, so *jazz hands*! I hope you like it! :)

Yuri Plisetsky was on top of the fucking world.

Last night, he lost his virginity in the most mind-blowing way possible ( _ pun in-fucking-tended _ ) to his Katsudon (hell  _ yes _ ,  _ his  _ Katsudon...he thinks with a smirk). This morning, he woke up early to that gorgeous, sleeping face inches away from his own, and had been so energized by his bubbly feelings that he had to skate them out, which was what he was currently doing. Later today, he would kicking that beautiful man's ass in their short program, and he knew this not only because of his dedication and hard work, but because after the electric rush of hearing his Katsudon's declaration of love settled down, he finally felt the missing piece of his  _ Agape _ click into place.

Sure, his Dedushka was (and still is) his original  _ agape,  _ and was responsible for his burgeoning understanding of the emotion - no one could take away from his grandfather's importance - but the comprehension always felt a bit...stunted, like the reach of Yuri's understanding fell short of the true scope of the emotion. Yesterday, he found what was missing in the form of one Yuuri Katsuki.

_ Agape _ , by definition, was the highest form of love. Purity. Charity. A love so unconditional, it was mostly reserved for the reciprocal love between a person and God. Yuri himself had never held much faith in the deity. It didn't mesh with his view of the world. He much preferred the version of  _ agape  _ that focused on the people you hold closest to you, the people you would do quite literally anything for, selflessly and without hesitation or reservation, the people who hadn't left when things were rough or when he was this side of too much, and the people you had complete trust and faith in when they promised they wouldn't. His Dedushka was one of those people who fit into all of those categories. Yuuri Katsuki had somehow snuck his way into them as well.

Just thinking about the last 24 hours threw Yuri into a mental tailspin. Surprise, confusion, anger (mostly at himself), despair (pretty much completely at himself), and joy crash together and fall away in a veritable torrent of emotion. It was exhausting trying to parse it all out. He wasn't used to dealing with such complex emotions, really. What he'd felt had always just been an amplified version of simpler emotions. Someone else might be angry where Yuri would be furious. Another person might be sad where Yuri would be devastated (though he'd never allow someone else to see beyond the masks of wood and steel he desperately hid behind). To feel so many different emotions in one fell swoop was...a lot. So much that he'd almost ruined it not even an hour after it - whatever  _ it _ is - started.

Yuri scowled at himself as he absently ran through the step sequences of his short program. As happy and fulfilled as he felt about the validation of his feelings and how amazing his first time was, he'd almost fucked it all up. He couldn't pluck the image imprinted behind his eyes of his Katsudon's hurt, overly bright eyes ruined with tears as he'd stumbled back as if Yuri had physically slapped him, when Yuri had accused him of malicious intent out of his head. He wouldn't soon forget the hollowed out feeling of panic as his Katsudon left him to his own devices, alone with his mind reeling as he was expected to just collect his shit and leave. He wouldn't ever forget the crawling despair of hearing the man he loves bawling in that en suite bathroom. The wet gasps for air and muffled whimpers would undoubtedly haunt Yuri for years to come.

Yuri knew he was an asshole. He was aware he could be callous and hostile and cutting and suspicious and he usually let his words run headlong out of his mouth without considering their potential impact. He knew he thought with his goals in mind first. He knew he had absolutely no idea how to navigate delicate emotions and situations that call for softness, subtlety and a gentle hand. He knew he didn't trust just about anyone and that that fact had a wealth of potential reverberating consequences every time he questioned someone's intentions. He knew all of this. It usually didn't bother him too much. He’d created his armor for a reason. He didn't usually give too much thought to the side-eyes or the indignation or the anger from other people. He had too much riding on his shoulders and too much to focus on to worry about anyone in his periphery. He needed to keep this train of success on track, ever moving forward. He needed to win gold. He absolutely did not need to worry about coddling anyone for hurting their precious, little feelings. 

He knew in his mind that his Katsudon would be a bit of an exception even if he refused to outwardly acknowledge it.

Ever since last year's Grand Prix Finale, mesmerized by Yuuri Katsuki's footwork and grace, Yuri was hooked, googling Katsuki's stats and developing the beginnings of what would end up being a massive crush. He would sooner cut out his own tongue than admit it, but Yuri really admired Yuuri. His jumps could certainly use some improvement, but he always picked himself up and powered through. Even if his edges were frayed by nerves, you could see the passion in every sweep of his blades on the ice. It was beautiful. 

Ever since catching him crying like a little baby ( _ fucking rude, _ his mind chimed), that the brief feeling of celebrity-like admiration was cut short, leaving him angry and feeling like he'd been betrayed somehow, like he'd been cheated out of a worthwhile idol. Looking back, he cringed at his 14-year-old selfishness and immaturity. He remembered the sharp thorn of annoyance and the desire to help make it better, but having absolutely no clue how. He had no experience dealing with other people's tears. The only thing he'd thought to do was try and motivate him the way he knew best. Tell Yuri Plisetsky he won't, shouldn't or absolutely  _ can't _ do something and he's going to prove them all wrong. Maybe this crybaby was the same. 

(Clearly part of him was right, otherwise his Katsudon wouldn't have pushed himself to get back on his feet instead of fading into obscurity,  _ right? _ Yuuri had told him so last night, holding Yuri's face so tenderly and speaking so sincerely. Yuri didn't want to acknowledge Viktor's significance in Yuuri's technical and emotional improvement when he was in such a good mood.)

What he wasn't expecting was the subsequent guilt that came with remembering the flinch he'd received when he got up in Yuuri's face last year. It was the same flinch he'd received every time he cruelly called Yuuri "piggy" and it was the same flinch he received last night, with the name-calling and thrown accusations like barbs, deliberately sharp, like he hadn't learned a damn thing in the last year of his own personal growth and knowing his Katsudon. 

He frowned at himself, over-rotating his last signature quad salchow while so deep in thought. He didn't like facing the uglier side of himself. He didn't like admitting fear and weakness. He didn't like that he could look at this beautiful man and tear him apart so effectively, so  _ efficiently _ , only realizing his mistakes after the damage was done. He didn't like feeling helpless in the face of his - lover's? Boyfriend's? - panic attacks,  _ especially  _ when Yuri himself was the catalyst for them. He had just been so  _ angry _ , a moment of bright, false clarity cultivated by his fear of being used.

He'd never been one for being emotionally open. He wasn't used to people around him being so free with their true emotions aside from his dramatic пизда of a rinkmate, Georgi, who grossed Yuri out consistently with his weird feelings of entitlement and obsession toward his ex. Mila always played her own cards close to the chest, so focused on what was going on in other people's lives and changing the subject when anyone tried to dig into her own business. Yakov had never been a bleeding heart and Lilia has proven to be no different. Viktor was the king of manipulation, hidden feelings and unknown motives. He played an audience like a fiddle and knew the exact degree of smiling watt power to throw out to enamor the crowd. Not exactly the shining example of openness. His parents were too self-centered to even be  _ parents, _ let alone to teach him emotional and communicative intelligence. 

The best role model he'd had growing up was his Dedushka, and he had a habit of hiding anything remotely serious from Yuri out of a desire not to burden him. It was as endearing as it was infuriating. Yuri had always followed in his footsteps, never letting anyone see the soft inner pieces of his onion heart ( _ note to self: tell Georgi to go fuck himself for the Shrek suggestion _ ). 

He had no real preparation for the depth of emotion his Katsudon wore on his sleeve. He was caught breathless with the self-inflicted turmoil caused by hurting the man he'd grown to care about so deeply. He was blindsided by the comprehension that this whole time he's been jealous of Viktor for being so close to Yuuri, Yuuri's mind was on  _ him _ . He never, in a million years, would have thought that his Katsudon would push through the sharp edges and the raised hackles and accept him just as he is. He never expected a declaration of being missed and the knowledge that he was  _ loved _ . A love that stretched out toward him, nervous and hopeful and tentative, finding that, regardless of the near-blinding terror, he wanted to meet it with open arms. Love outside of a familial bond, without hidden motives or an angle, or expectations or a desire to change him. Being loved for being himself.  _ Unconditional  _ love.  _ Agape _ . 

Being the only one on the ice this early in the morning, Yuri tilted his face up with a relaxed smile, closing his eyes for a moment and allowing himself the freedom to  _ feel. _ To not have to hide his attraction behind a scowl and cutting words. To feel light as a feather, carried away on the floaty sensation of genuine emotional reciprocation. To  _ love. _ He might not have been able to say it to his Katsudon just yet, but the feeling was there, warming him from the inside out. He felt giddy, not that he'd ever tell  _ anyone _ that. 

He spread his arms, falling into the beginning of his  _ Agape _ routine. It had never felt this easy in any of the previous months of practice and competition. Not with focusing only on his Dedushka. Not with the rigorous ballet training. Not with trying his best to  _ act _ as if he had a full comprehension of the complex emotion he was trying to emulate. Thinking of his self-aware, loving, nervous, beautiful, frustrating, accepting, warm, complex Katsudon -  _ that _ was the key to propel him to his best  _ Agape _ practice to date.

Throwing himself into his quads with ease, he tested Tano jumps, aiming to blow everyone in the crowd - particularly a certain handsome competitor - away. He wasn't quite sure if he'd use them later in the day or if he'd save it for Barcelona, but the effortlessness that came to him proved that he was more than ready to make good on his promise to kick his Katsudon's ass. 

He finished the routine, back arched back, hands clasped and reaching toward the ceiling, smothering the beatific smile that wanted to creep to his lips. He'd been here long enough for anyone to possibly walk in on him and he wouldn't allow anyone to see this just yet. For now, this was just his and his Katsudon’s.

 

\---

 

Yuri was putting on his skate guards when his Katsudon burst into the rink looking tense and disheveled, like he hadn't done much more than run his hands through his hair before leaving the hotel room. He didn't seem to notice Yuri sitting off to his side, but his eyes seemed to be searching for something or some _ one (me?) _ and he was fidgeting again - a clear indicator that he was feeling anxious. Yuri was just about to walk up to see if he could do something -  _ anything _ \- to help when seeing Viktor come trailing close behind his Katsudon stopped him short. 

Yuri trusted Yuuri when he'd said he wanted Yuri for  _ Yuri _ . He trusted that the older man wouldn't lie to him or lead him on. He didn't trust Viktor to keep his hands to himself or to flirt and charm his way in between Yuri and his Katsudon. It's not as if he knew about the shift in Yuuri's relationship status.

_ What shift? _ His traitorous mind whispered.  _ You haven't defined anything. You might have shared something last night, but that doesn't mean he's yours.  _ Unease sank to his stomach as he thought about the fact that he didn't actually know what this development in their connection really meant. Would he even want that? Would  _ Katsudon _ even want that? He imagined so, but Yuri wasn't sure the older man would want the pressure and added stress of a… _ relationship.  _ Yuri curled his lip at imagining the outcome of them coming forward with their budding... _ thing. _

The media would have a heyday, hounding both himself and his Katsudon. He knew he was only 15, just shy of the legal age of consent in his home country, but still not quite old enough to be considered an adult, so anyone with a remotely conservative mindset would flip their shit over it. The Angels would either come for Yuri's or Yuuri's blood, and he honestly wasn't sure which was more terrifying. Their friends would never let them hear the end of it, throwing their opinions and judgment wherever they deemed fit. His Dedushka...Yuri wasn't sure what his grandfather's reaction would be, but he was almost certain it couldn't be anything good. 

Yuri looked up, troubled and still decently hidden from view, and watched the ease in which his Katsudon and Viktor moved around each other. He watched their passive physicality and affection. It was a flow that came with practice and being around each other long enough for the sharper edges to be smoothed down. Something he and Yuuri hadn't had the time or opportunity to develop.

Yuri scowled fiercely, choking down the jealousy and rage trying to claw its way to the surface. He debated putting himself between the two, aggressively staking some sort of claim. He wanted to tell his former mentor off for the comforting hand on his Katsudon's shoulder, but decided against it. Viktor didn't know what was going on. Hell, Yuri didn’t know what was going on.  _ Why was Katsudon looking increasingly distressed? Was he really that concerned about his upcoming performance?  _ Anyway, his potential outburst would only result in Katsudon giving him that vaguely disappointed look that never failed to royally piss him off and chasten him in turn.

He wanted to go to Yuuri, to provide as much comfort as his inexperienced self could. He swallowed around the tightness in his throat thinking about the fact that Viktor was undoubtedly the better option for calming his Katsudon down, for providing comfort. Instead, he backed away and snuck out of the arena quietly, avoiding being caught, intent on finding food and solitude to clear his head of the downward turn it was currently taking. 

He had just had the best practice skate of the season, maybe of his life, and just a few minutes of watching Viktor fret over his Katsudon like it was his job ( _ it technically is, but that's not the fucking point _ ) was enough to sour his mood. He checked the time. Four hours until he absolutely had to be ready to step on the ice. Until he would skate his  _ Agape. _

He wasn't feeling very fucking  _ agape _ right now. Irrationality was his specialty, jumping to conclusions and letting himself grow volatile as the negative emotions built pressure, threatening to blow up on those in his path. He needed to let this insecurity  _ go _ , which was decidedly  _ not _ his specialty. Yuri was a creature of dwelling on things, on letting molehills of emotion build up to mountains, on tentatively forgiving but  _ never _ forgetting, on grudges, on being and feeling emotionally inept and constantly being angry about it. Yuri was also prone to finding sharp edges and offenses that weren't even meant to be there. 

All of that shit is why he built his armor in the first place. No one could hurt you if they couldn't find your vulnerabilities - if they couldn't see the the real you. No one could even affect you if you kept them at a distance. At least...that's what he told himself as he pushed down the cloying melancholy and self-doubt prickling behind his eyes. 

He set his mask to one of his usual bitch face as he wrestled to remember the soft touches of the previous night, the wildfire of emotion, the stark honesty and simplicity in Yuuri's inadvertent declaration, like it was such a simple thing to love Yuri.

Yuri felt his lip tremble as his mind repeated  _ unlovable  _ in his head like a broken record. It wasn't the first time he'd thought this, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He thought of himself in comparison to Viktor, who was warm and easy to talk to and had a damn perma-smile on his face, willing to help even if it fell flat. Viktor was also tall and handsome and  _ an adult. _ A consecutive five-time winner of the Grand Prix, an  _ Olympian _ , he was already successful in a way that Yuri was only hoping to become at this point. Yuri wasn't extroverted and stoic in the face of opposition or criticism like Viktor. He wasn't charming or charismatic or carefree like Viktor. Yuri didn't understand his own appeal. He couldn't wrap his head around what Yuuri apparently saw. What good is passion and intensity when he couldn't be a comfort, when he hurt his Katsudon, when he turned such an amazing night to something emotionally draining? 

Yuri shook his head as if the motion could physically dislodge the doubts in his head, their claws sunken in and refusing to be torn out. 

He entered the first restaurant he walked by, a small Italian restaurant where he could sit off in the corner to try and stop the self-inflicted barbs from digging themselves any deeper. He ordered himself minestrone at the counter, paid and went to sit down only to be stopped by the only person more fucking annoying to him than Viktor Nikiforov at the moment.

“Hey, Yurio! That's what they're calling you now, right? Come sit with me while I wait for Isabella to meet me.” JJ “Asshole Supreme” Leroy called out to him. 

Yuri sneered in response and went to sit at a table on the other side of the little shop. His sneer morphed into a full-on rage face as he watched JJ collect his shit, sauntered into his space and sat across from him like he was fucking invited. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Yuri grinds out.

JJ smirked like he hadn't a care in the damn world. “You look a little keyed up, Yurio. What's wrong? Worried you won't medal? Don't worry, you could take silver beside me if Chris flubs it, and you could easily take bronze.”

Yuri jerked back in disbelief.  _ Is this motherfucker serious? _ “No, asshole, I'm not worried about the fact that I'm going to crush you today. I've got other shit to worry about.” Yuri snapped his mouth closed, scowling. Did he really just admit he's worried about something to this asswipe? Apparently so.

JJ’s face faltered, an edge of concern shining through. It was the first time Yuri had seen an emotion beyond the limited confidence, cockiness, smug and generally ‘douche’ emotional range JJ rocks. It made Yuri wary.

“Is… Look, I know you hate me, and I know we have this rivalry or whatever, but seriously… You okay?” JJ looked a bit uncertain as he tried to keep the tone light. “I'd rather take the gold from someone fairly than by beating him because his head's not in it.”

Yuri furrowed his brows, frowning as he studied JJ’s face. He looked sincere, which is fucking bizarre in and of itself, but add that to  _ concern _ ? Yuri looked around as if looking for a hidden camera before remembering that this guy wasn't the same kind of person as his Katsudon's friend. Phichit or whatever. Still, he didn't think he wanted to talk to King Douche-Douche about his insecurities, so he wiped all expression from his face, blankly stating, “I'm fine.”

Frustration colored JJ’s expression for a moment before sighing, shaking himself. “Alright, I'm gonna ask you a few questions and we can go from there.” Ignoring Yuri’s indignant noise of protest, he sat up straight, throwing questions in a quickfire. “Is it your grandfather? I remember the commentator saying something about him being your inspiration for your  _ Agape _ performance.” Yuri’s brows reached high, stunned. He shook his head no. “Is it nerves?” Yuri scowled. “Okay, no. We went over that already.” JJ’s smile grew sly as he ask, “Is it a...girl problem?”

Something must have passed over Yuri's face because JJ looked triumphant. He looked self-satisfied as the waiter brought out Yuri's food. 

“Shut up,” Yuri spat once the waiter left. “It's none of your concern.”

JJ shook his head again, smug look falling away. “It is when this could affect your ability to give me a good fight. Besides, it's not as if I'm some heartless asshole. I've had my fair share of girl problems in the past. Maybe I can help.” Sighing, he looked off to the side as if giving Yuri a bit of privacy as he collected his thoughts...or like he didn't want to see the denial on Yuri's face.

Except Yuri didn't deny him. Yuri sat and stared at the man across from him, stunned again by this assho- by  _ JJ _ -offering him actual help. Plus, it's not as if JJ could possibly know he'd be asking relationship advice about Yuuri, especially since he didn't even have the gender right. Maybe if he played it right, Yuri could glean some actual insight from this annoying pesterer. 

Looking supremely uncomfortable, Yuri shifted in his seat and gave a simple, “fine.”

JJ jerked, astounded expression on his face before laughing disbelievingly. “I… Yeah, okay, so what's wrong? Did you and this girl fight?”

Yuri grimaced, not meeting JJ's eyes and gave a curt “no.” He noticed that his prickly demeanor was giving his companion a vaguely tense look, like maybe he was regretting going down this line of conversation. Heaving a great sigh, Yuri continued, careful not to trip on any pronouns. “Not even a week ago, I would have been hesitant to call us ‘friends,’ let alone...whatever we are now.” JJ's eyes narrowed. “We may have skipped a few steps in the line from point A to...what the fuck ever point we are now, and I don't know how to talk to h-her about it. Plus, she's always with some other guy she's known and,” Yuri admitted as his grimace deepened, “admired longer...who may or may not be better for her. She said she loved me, but this guy...he has so much more to offer her.” Yuri scowled down at his soup, feeling nauseous as he avoided JJ's eyes. He swallowed down around the feeling lodged up in his throat. He couldn’t believe he’d just said all of that aloud, to  _ JJ Leroy _ of all people. Feeling a maelstrom of negative emotion bubbling up, he covered it with a stony expression. “Forget it. This is stupid. I don't know why I'm talking to you about this.”

Chuckling, JJ ran a hand over his face, ignoring Yuri's last statement. “Yeah, Yurio. This  _ is  _ pretty stupid, even for you.”

Blood ran out of Yuri's face, feeling a touch more choked.  _ Had JJ just validated Yuri's fears? _ “Excuse me?!” he demanded.

“Yeah, I mean...where do  _ you _ get off deciding what's best for this girl? Did  _ she  _ tell you this other dude was better for her?” JJ's eyes glinted challengingly. “Because unless you left that bit out, I'm assuming that's a ‘no.’” His eyes slid to something a bit kinder. “Look, man. I know you haven't...‘defined the relationship’ or whatever, and I know you're still pretty young, so I get it. I was pretty insecure in the romance department when I was your age too.” Yuri scowled at the reminder of his youth. “Don't give me that. We're all young before we grow up. It's a fact of life. Anyway, Isabella and I didn't really start dating until I was about your age. We had a pretty bumpy start, too, since 100% of my focus was on skating. I wouldn't sweat it unless your girl explicitly told you there was a problem.”

Again, for the - fourth? Fifth? - time since sitting down, Yuri was stunned.  _ JJ fucking Leroy, King Douche-Douche, Canada's most egocentric man, just gave Yuri some solid, sound advice. _ Pursing his lips, Yuri ran over his thought process since seeing his Katsudon with Viktor. Hell, since last night when he'd accused Yuuri of purposefully trying to distract him ( _ which he was currently fucking doing, but now Yuri knew it wasn't intentional. _ )  _ Yuri _ had decided that Yuuri was tricking him.  _ Yuri _ had decided he was too young, too prickly, too mean for Yuuri.  _ Yuri _ had decided that Yuuri hated him, that he had feelings for Viktor. His Katsudon didn't tell him any of that shit. Yuri had determined that all on his own. He'd looked Yuuri right in the eyes and told him how Yuuri felt like he had any right to do so. Yuri looked at JJ's unruffled self, horrified with himself, but - and he hated admitting this  _ and fucking wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself  _ \- he was thankful that JJ had beaten Yuri's insecurities down with a one-two punch of logic and a different frame of reference. 

Feeling lighter than he had since stepping off the ice that morning, Yuri's face cleared of the thunder. He graced JJ with a small smile and decided,  _ fuck it _ . “No one's going to believe you if you tell them I said this later, but...thank you. I hadn't thought of it that way.”

“You're welcome.” JJ said, shrugging, simple as that, like the fact that he'd probably just saved Yuri's mood was nothing. He opened his mouth to continue when Isabella cut in, surprising both of them.

“We eating with little Yurio today?” She asked innocently. Yuri scowled up at her, then back at JJ, just  _ daring _ him to continue this Lifetime Moment. 

JJ smirked, understanding colored in his eyes. “Nah. Let's leave him here to think about how the view from my left will look when I take gold later.”

Yuri threw a curse at JJ's turned back and went back to eating, feeling content and a bit like punching himself in the face. 

_ What the actual fuck is with these last 24 hours?  _ He thought. The emotional rollercoaster of the last day had done a weird thing to time, making it feel like an entire week of events had been stuffed into a shorter period of time. Yuri mentally listed the shit that had happened to him: he returned to Moscow for the first time in what felt like ages; he lost his virginity to the (older, beautiful,  _ sexy _ ) man he loved; almost had a panic attack when he basically rejected Yuuri; he was told  _ he _ was loved by said older, beautiful,  _ sexy _ man; he understood  _ agape _ ; he slept with his Katsudon in a nonsexual context, which felt even more intimate than the sex; he’d skated his best; he almost had an emotional nuclear explosion because of his own insecurities; had a fucking  _ heart-to-heart  _ with  _ JJ _ … Was he in an alternate universe? Was he on reality TV? 

Finishing up, he shook his head at himself and set out to catch a cab back to the hotel to do some stretching and to meet with Yakov to go over any last-minute things. His coach was probably ready to chew his ear off, which...was funny. He hadn't remembered hearing his phone go off all day. He didn’t recall a notification from his Katsudon either - which thinking back, that may have been part of the rising anger and confusion he'd been dealing with all day. Too preoccupied with skating and his tempestuous emotions, he didn't think he'd heard his phone go off even once. 

Furrowing his brows, he checked his pockets, then his bag when his check came up unfruitful.  _ Fuck, _ he'd lost his phone. Thinking back, Yuri didn't recall taking his phone to the rink either, running high on the events of the previous night (and waking up next to that beautiful face). He'd crept out of bed, his Katsudon sleeping all the while, quietly dressed, collected his things and left, intending to get some solo practice in before meeting up with Yuuri later or something. Retracing his steps, he couldn't recall grabbing his phone.

Yakov was going to slaughter him.

Biting his lip, he rushed out of the restaurant, not even pausing to answer the farewells from JJ and Isabella more than a lifted hand, and hailed a cab. The ride to the hotel should have only taken a few minutes, but he didn't think he'd actually gone without his phone for more than an hour or two during practice let alone half a day. Now that he was aware of its absence, he felt a bit untethered, wondering how many missed calls and voicemails he was going to have when he checked again. He wondered how many were from his Katsudon.

Pulling up to the hotel, he quickly thanked and paid the driver, and rushed to the elevators. He flushed on the ride up, remembering the heat and the itch to touch when Yuuri had backed him against the wall. He fought a cringe at recalling his reaction to hearing his given name spoken so softly, so close to his own lips. He'd felt as if using his name was too much of an intimate thing for his Katsudon to do. He didn't know how to handle it. He's been given so many monikers - the Ice Tiger of Russia, the Russian Fairy, the Russian  _ Punk _ , Kitten (much to his chagrin), the “other Yuri”, fucking  _ Yurio _ \- that hearing his own name spoken by anyone besides Yakov, Lilia and his Dedushka, elders and family, felt too  _ personal. _ He regretted that his involuntary response had caused that handsome face to crumple to one of hurt and confusion. 

_ It's fine. We ended on a high note last night.  _ Yuri smirked to himself, flushed as he exited the elevator that had landed at his Katsudon's floor. He really did need his phone back. He just hoped he'd catch Yuuri there. Who knows what he was doing right now. For all Yuri knew, he could be practicing.

He knocked on the door, foot tapping a nervous beat as he put on his confident mask. He wouldn't want his Katsudon to see him nervous. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the door swung open, though his small smile cut short as Viktor looked back at him, smiling but confused.

_ Shit. _ Yuri hadn't even considered Viktor might have been in there with Yuuri. Yuri fought to contain the tidal wave of jealousy and vulnerability from showing on his face as he fit himself into his usual aggressive stance. 

“What are you doing here, Kitten?” Viktor asked, blithely ignoring the glower cast at him.

Yuri racked his brain, trying to come up with a suitable excuse as to why he was knocking on Yuuri's door in the middle of the day, mere hours before they were set to compete. Drawing a blank, he glared harder at Viktor. “Is the piggy here?” he asked rancorously, stopping himself from flinching away from his own wording. He really hoped his Katsudon hadn't heard that. 

The smile on Viktor's face evaporated, leaving an unimpressed expression. He tilted his head, studying Yuri. Subtly digging his nails into his palms, Yuri waited Viktor out. Either his Katsudon was there or he was not. He wanted his phone back but he wasn't about to ask Viktor if he could retrieve it. Awkwardly enough, he didn't have to.

“Looking for this?” Viktor asked, voice devoid of tone, holding up Yuri's damnable phone. Yuri froze as Viktor continued, tone falsely light. “It's funny. I knew you could be mean to just about everyone, even people you care about, but I hadn't actually expected you to be so  _ cruel _ .” Viktor shoved the phone into Yuri's chest. “I don't know all of what happened yesterday, and I don't  _ want _ to know, but sometime between then and now you hurt Yuuri. I don't think he needs you to set him off even more than you already have.”

Yuri felt as if the floor had dropped out from underneath him. What the fuck was Viktor talking about? He hadn't done anything beyond the mistakes of yesterday…and forgetting his phone. He'd  _ hurt _ his Katsudon...again? There's no fucking way. Maybe Viktor meant by “ignoring” him  _ (which he wouldn’t have purposefully done if he'd had his phone). _ Regrouping, he decided he just needed to apologize for the the accident. His eyes flashed dangerously at his former mentor. “Let me see him, old man. I need to talk to him.”

Viktor's gaze grew flinty, undoubtedly ready to send Yuri on his way, before his eyes peered over Yuri's shoulder. His expression cleared for the most part, a bright  _ (fake) _ smile spreading across his face, but his tone held an uncertain air about it. “Ah, Yuuri! I was just returning Yurio's phone to him so he could be on his way! You should consider showering since you look like an absolute mess,” he said, and moved to push a wooden Yuri out of the way.

Yuri snapped out of it, smacking Viktor's hand off of him, and turned to face Yuuri. He really did look like a mess. His cheeks were ruddy and his hair was clumped together, a little greasy. His glasses were a little crooked to the point that Yuri had to smother the itch to adjust them. Yuuri's shoulders were slumped and he wouldn't meet Yuri's eyes, which was probably the most disconcerting part of the picture made before him. 

Yuri stepped forward a bit, frown hooking his lips further down as Yuuri tensed. “Can I talk to you, Katsudon?” He asked.

Biting his lip and  _ still _ refusing to look him in the eye, his Katsudon took a shaky breath and nodded. “Y-yeah. Viktor, I'll meet you downstairs in a bit, okay? I'll text you when I'm ready.”

Disapproval swept through every line of Viktor's body, but he didn't fight Yuuri's choice. He nodded his assent, mumbling in Russian - something about not seeing the point, and Yuri scowled at his back as he left him and his Katsudon alone.

Without saying a word, Yuuri entered the hotel room, head down and reticent. Yuri followed, frown pulling ever deeper and closed the door behind them. Tucking his phone safely in his pocket, he laid a hand on his Katsudon's shoulder, aiming to turn him around, only to be shrugged off. Yuri jerked his hand back, stung.

“You asked me my motives yesterday, and it hurt pretty badly to think you would think so lowly of me - that I'd only have s-sex with you as- as some sort of distraction, but,” he tripped out, looking up into Yuri's eyes with tears in his own, “I never asked you of yours. What-” he sobbed, effectively crushing Yuri's heart. Yuuri's eyes tore away from his again as he choked out, “what was this to you?”

As if rooted to the ground, Yuri stopped stock still. His heart lurched at the tears and devastation on his Katsudon's face, at the inward curl of his shoulders, so similar to when he'd attempted to make himself smaller just last night. Yuri had no clue what to say.  _ This was the best thing to have ever happened to me? _ No, too mushy.  _ This was  _ agape? __ Hell no. Too fucking cliche and gross.  _ This was...everything.  _ It was as good as anything else, he supposed. His contemplation must have run Yuuri's patience dry because just as Yuri’d opened his mouth to tell him just that, Yuuri snapped.

“WHAT WAS THIS?!” He cried, anguished. 

“IT WAS EVERYTHING, OKAY? IT WAS FUCKING EVERYTHING.”  _ God _ damn _ his reactionary bullshit.  _ Yuri hadn't meant to snap back. He'd wanted to keep it cool, maintain a sense of level-headedness, to stay calm and collected. Then again, when had any of those adjectives been good descriptor words for Yuri? He slumped, running both hands over his face. “What the fuck, Katsudon. I don't...I don't understand what the issue is. We had an amazing night last night,  _ da? _ I know I fucked it up, but I thought we'd, ah, we'd talked it through. What did I do wrong now?” Yuri dropped his hands, feeling dejected. 

Yuuri's eyes hardened, a disconcerting look what with the tears in his eyes. “You  _ left _ me without warning, without a note, without  _ any word. _ You snuck out after I said I l-love you and you-you-” Yuuri cut off as he started hyperventilating. 

Yuri dropped his bag off to the side, quickly coming to draw his silly Katsudon into his arms. He held tight despite Yuuri's halfhearted shoving, running his fingers through the back of Yuuri's hair. The other hand traced random patterns along Yuuri's back as he spoke low into his ear, murmuring about how amazing last night had been. 

Yuri wanted his Katsudon to calm down before he explained himself. That desire to punch himself he thought about earlier? Yeah, if that could come with a secondary left hook, that'd be great. If he could time-travel and kick his own ass on-sight for leaving the room without so much as a by-your-leave, we would. He felt like a fucking piece of shit for not having the presence of mind to  _ leave a fucking note. _ He'd, for some reason, assumed he'd just see Yuuri later and that would be that. He didn't even consider the implication of him just leaving without saying anything. He'd honestly just wanted his Katsudon to get a good rest (Yuri had noticed the ever-present circles under his eyes the last time he'd seen Yuuri), and wanted to skate while the good feelings were so blinding bright.  _ I'm a fucking idiot. _

Eventually, Yuuri settled down, fingers clutched tight into Yuri's shirt and shakily rested his forehead against Yuri's collarbone. Yuri swallowed heavily, squeezing his Katsudon tighter to him as he spoke, quietly and clearly. “I am a fucking idiot. I didn't think. I never intended for you to get, I don't know...anxious or doubt me. I thought we'd just see each other before the competition and it'd be fine. God, I'm so stupid. I know it's not an excuse, but I've never been good at, you know, checking in and...I forgot my damn phone. If I'd had my phone, we wouldn't have be having this problem, I guess. I...I'm sorry, Katsudon.” 

Yuuri jolted against him. He pulled away from Yuri, and looked as if he was checking for signs of illness. He ran an unsteady hand over Yuri's forehead with a watery laugh. “Did you actually just...apologize, Yurio? I can't remember you ever doing that.”

Yuri looked off to the side and dropped his hands to his sides, closing off. While he loved that his Katsudon was smiling again, he didn't like being mocked when he was being sincere. He almost jerked when soft fingers tilted his face back to look at Yuuri.

“Now  _ I'm _ sorry. I shouldn't have teased you when you were being serious.” Yuuri said apologetically. “Please don't hide.”

_ Please don't hide. _ That was going to become a  _ thing _ for them, wasn't it? Yuri couldn't help but smile, flush riding high on his cheeks, thinking about the last time those words were murmured. He bit his lip, eyes landing on his Katsudon's lips, wondering if it was okay to kiss him. Huffing lightly, Yuuri smiled as he tipped Yuri's head up, hesitantly meeting his lips with Yuuri's own. 

Yuri wondered if he'd always feel like he did when he kissed his Katsudon. It was electrifying, a type of buzzing static that filled him to the brim, extending to his extremities, making him want to never stop. Yuri's body fell lax against his - lover's, boyfriend's,  _ TBD  _ \- arms, groaning into the other's lips. He slid his hands along the sides of Yuuri's neck, guiding him closer, and bit into his bottom lip. 

Yuuri whimpered against his lips, but gripped his wrists, stopping him. “We have to stop, Yuri. We don't have time for much more than this right now. Besides, it's only a matter of time before Viktor grows impatient enough to try to barge in.” Katsudon grimaced.

Yuri pulled his Katsudon in for one more hard kiss before releasing him, smirking at the slightly dazed look across Yuuri's face, loving the physical proof of the effect he had on the older man. Remembering the weirdness in the hall not even 10 minutes before, Yuri reluctantly asked, “does Viktor know? About us? About...whatever...we are?” He couldn't suppress the grimace even if he'd put in the effort to try. Yuuri's rounded, nervous eyes were telling, but Yuri pursed his lips, wanting to hear it out loud. 

“I-I didn't tell him anything, but with both sides of the bed a wreck and your phone left sitting on the nightstand was probably enough for him to come to his own conclusion.” Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck, turning away. Yuri's brows furrowed as his Katsudon asked, “about that, Yuri…” Yuri tensed without his permission. Yuuri paused, straightening before he turned back around, looking Yuri right in the eye. “Wh-what is… What are we? What do you  _ want  _ us to be?” 

Yuri's brows climbed high as he volleyed the question back to Yuuri. “What do  _ you  _ want us to be, Katsudon?”

They stared at one another, a standstill, each waiting for the other to break. Yuri wasn't exactly the pinnacle of patience though, and with the series events that had already taken its pound of flesh, he felt like he was almost at the end of his fraying rope. He could feel his face was growing wooden the longer he waited. 

Exasperated, he opened his mouth, ready to cave when his phone went off. It was only when he checked his phone that he realized he had  _ 58  _ missed calls, at least half of them from his coach. Cringing, he apologized to his Katsudon, holding a finger up to pause the conversation. Hesitantly, he answered.

Loud, angry Russian poured from his phone. He'd had to pull the phone away from his face it was so loud, and Yakov wasn't even on speakerphone. He couldn't get a word in edgewise, and was ordered to “get [his] little, unappreciative ass to his room  _ this instant" _ before the call ended. He'd pissed off Yakov in the past, but he couldn't recall it ever being quite like that, not even when he'd left for Japan without warning.

Staring at his phone in disbelief, he cleared his throat. “Ah, Yuuri… I have to go. Yakov has been trying to get a hold of me since,” he scrolled through his missed call list, raising his brows, “ _ shit, _ since last night.” He felt the heat spread up to his ears, surely visible to the older man.  _ Damn this pale complexion. _ “Can we...finish this conversation later tonight? Maybe after our short programs?” 

His Katsudon's face was an approximation of patience, but Yuri could see the war between understanding and exasperation lining his eyes. Yuuri bit his bottom lip and nodded, peering into the middle distance, a sullen expression beginning to take shape.  _ Unacceptable. _

Noting the older man's reluctance, Yuri caressed his cheek, thumbing over his bottom lip, and tugging it enough to elicit a gasp just like he'd done last night. “If you’re worried about leaving this unsettled, don't. We  _ will _ have that conversation later.” He drew Yuuri into a hard kiss again, tongue teasing over the line he'd previously drawn, pulling away at the helpless moan he was granted. Yuri had to bite his lip to stop the grin from spreading too wide. The shaky exhalation from his Katsudon was thrilling, the effect he had on the older man addicting. Yuri was sorely tempted to make Yakov wait a bit longer, just to see what other noises he could pull from Yuuri, but as he checked his phone for the time, he cursed. Grabbing his bag, he headed to the door, but not before turning and winking. “I'll see you after I kick your ass.” He said with a smile, leaving a sputtering Katsudon in his wake.

 

\---

 

Yuri couldn’t focus on his upcoming performance for anything.

Yakov had tried to keep Yuri's attention through his Katsudon's routine to run through his usual pep talk, especially after being torn a new one for a full 15 minutes about ghosting on his coaches and irresponsibility, but most of his focus was torn between the absence of his Dedushka and the way Yuuri's body moved on the ice. 

Entranced, he watched as his Katsudon danced over the ice, the fabric of his costume hugging the firm muscles Yuri knew his clothing hid. Yuuri seemed to be giving it his all tonight, first with the bold lip-licking and kiss he blew to the judges, and now with his impassioned movements, throwing himself into jumps with more confidence than Yuri had previously yet to see. 

He hadn't had time to see his Katsudon at all between meeting up with Yakov and when Yuuri stepped on the ice. Rather, he showed up just in time to watch the older man perform. 

_ And thank fuck for that,  _ Yuri thought, his eyes trailing down the length of Yuuri's body as he entered the spread eagle, widening at the technical perfection of his triple axel. Yuri feels his heart skip, lips stretching into a proud smile as his Katsudon lands the quad salchow not long after. Yuuri's movements were tinged with complete confidence in his  _ Eros.  _ Yuri flushed as he thought of that body twisting beneath his hands, of the desire for that confidence to rear its head more often, maybe even in the bedroom. Yuri had to shake his head to dispel the thoughts before he embarrassed himself by getting hard in front of everyone. He flushed thinking of what the internet would do with that information. He refocused on his Katsudon, paying more attention specifically to the technicality of his performance so as to not fall back into the rush of arousal flowing through him.

He'd honestly never seen Yuuri skate so beautifully. He was taken aback by the marked improvement he'd shown since the Onsen on Ice competition.  _ This _ was the Yuuri Yuri believed in the year previous.  _ This _ was the Yuuri the world deserved to see.  _ This  _ was the Yuuri Yuri was thrilled to compete against. Yuri had to cross his arms to physically hold himself back from applauding, from cheering for his Katsudon. He smirked, thinking of how hard he would have to push himself to crush Yuuri.

He'd noticed Viktor's gawking from the periphery. He'd seen how the older man's cheers cut off once Yuri was in his line of sight. Yuri also knew what he looked like. It wasn't until his Katsudon, coming off the ice, stopped short when he saw Yuri that he felt his skin begin to heat beneath his collar. A gasp, a dropped jaw and a flash of heated eyes were all it took for the pink to rush to Yuri's cheeks, biting his lip to contain the shy smile that was just  _ itching  _ to make itself present. Yuri forced himself to straighten up, hand confidently on his hip. He put on the most convincingly disinterested mask he could, raising his eyebrow disdainfully.

“Get out of my way, Katsudon.” He said, probably not as sharp as he would have in the months leading up to last night, but sharp enough that anyone who didn't know the subtle nuances in Yuri's aggressive tone wouldn't be suspicious. He walked past a beaming Yuuri, stepping onto the ice. He hid his face behind his hair and allowed himself one small smile as he let the  _ agape _ he felt for his Katsudon wash over him.

After a few moments, the smile on his face wore off as he thought of his other half of his performance preparation. _ Dedushka. _

Yuri didn't know why his Dedushka wasn't there. His most plausible guesses were that his grandfather either got caught up at work again and hadn't noticed the time...or that he got sick again and went the hospital. Why else wouldn't he be there? Perhaps the car was acting up. Perhaps he was stuck in traffic. Perhaps he choked on his dinner. Perhaps his heart was giving out. His breathing was coming a bit heavier.  _ Is this what a panic attack feels like?  _ The edges of his vision were going a little hazy as the telltale sound of Yakov and Lilia’s last-minute motivational speeches faded to the background. 

“109.97!” The commentator cried and Yuri's head snapped up in surprise, effectively distracting him, cutting through the anxiety. His Katsudon beat his own personal best  _ again. _ The feeling of pride for Yuuri was cut short as he watched Viktor lean down to kiss  _ his _ Katsudon's skate. To anyone else, it probably looked like affection between lovers, especially after that kiss at the Cup of China. A flood of disbelief, jealousy and rage surged through him.  _ That fucking asshat. What the fuck is he doing? _ He glared as hard as he could, imagining his laser vision burning a bald spot into the side of Viktor's head. 

_ "Davai!" _ His Katsudon called out to him, a helpless smile on his face.  _ Davai? That's all Yuuri had to say? All he'd do? Fucking ‘davai?!' _

_ "Davai!" _ Viktor echoed, inane smile on his face but his eyes sharp, and Yuri's rage fucking exploded. He felt his face contort to one of fury as he raced to the center of the ice. With the renewed jealousy and anger flowing through him and the nausea-inducing worry for his  _ Dedushka, _ he wasn't feeling very  _ agape _ right now.  _ Fucking fuck. _

He took three steadying breaths as the announcer presented him and settled himself into his starting pose. The jealousy he'd all but obliterated just hours earlier came back with vengeance. 

He saw the fucking kiss at the Cup of China. Sure, from what he saw of Yuuri's face, he looked uncomfortable,  _ but it happened,  _ and neither he nor Yuri had brought it up. They hadn't talked about it at all. They had yet to talk about figuring out just what they  _ were _ and now, Viktor was  _ kissing his skate _ like he had the right to do so? Yuri clenched and unclenched his fists in turn as he tried to contain the stomach-turning self-doubt and anxiety.

The music began and he was off, and he had to actively try to make his moves softer, to show the evolution of  _ agape  _ he had come to realize over the last few months, for his Katsudon and his  _ Dedushka. _ Thinking of his grandfather sent another spike of worry through him, just as he threw himself into his first jump - a triple axel - he fell, angrily noting to himself that he hadn't missed that one at all this season. 

He flew over the ice, chanting  _ don't hide, don't hide, don't hide, _ using the words as a touchstone to recall how he felt in those moments with his Katsudon. He decided to stop focusing on his  _ Dedushka  _ this time as that line of thought would only result in worry and panic at the moment, and instead focused on the positive things he could think of. He needed to immolate the suffocating jealousy if his short program was going to retain any emotional integrity. He recalled the wildfire of emotion that burned in him as Yuuri revealed that he loved Yuri exactly as he is. He melted into his flying sit spin, letting the memories and feelings break through the cloying anger built up inside. By the time he landed his quad salchow, triple toe loop, he was back on track. Maybe not to the level of calm he was pre-Viktor kissing his Katsudon's skate, but close enough to glide through the rest of his routine without another hiccup. 

The world around him blurred as he poured as much of himself into the program as he could. The only thing he heard was the music. The only thing he saw was Yuuri's face lit up from within, free of tension and anxiety. The only thing he thought was that he'd do just about anything short of throw a competition for Yuuri, letting his body be carried away by muscle memory, letting his feelings flow from his mind outward. He decided not to hide himself away so fully.

Yuri finished his program, back arched, hands clasped and reaching for the sky. The feelings of lightness and ease trickled out of him as he bowed to the audience, preparing to reenter the real world rather than the place of happy memories and syrupy feelings he'd just dwelled in. The crowd roared for him, throwing out flowers and stuffed animals as they usually did. Somehow a pair of cat ears landed on his head and he glared disdainfully, overhearing some of his fans squealing about how  _ cute _ he was as he left the ice. 

He determinedly avoided looking at both Viktor and Yuuri as he walked to the kiss and cry. He wasn't really sure if he was angry with Yuuri or not, but he definitely knew that his unchecked anger toward Viktor would only color his interactions with his Katsudon. He needed space to sort himself out.

He may have also been avoiding any potential  _ excuses. _ He didn't want to hear it.

“98.09!”  _ 98.09. How disappointing. _ Lilia remained stoic as Yakov sighed beside him, grumbling about Yuri’s head not being in the game. He understood it. As confident as Yuri surely was, he was also self-aware when it came to skating. He was also self-aware enough to know that he'd just skated rather poorly, for him. He wasn't at his best. He fell on a rather easy jump. His performance suffered because he let his own jealousy get the best of him and because he was too preoccupied with worry for his grandfather. Still, he was annoyed, at himself, at Viktor, at his Katsudon. He was ready to turn in for the night. He echoed Yakov's sigh, stood and turned to leave without so much as a look back.

His Katsudon didn't stop him.

 

\--- 

 

Yuri couldn't contain the look of utter disbelief spreading over his face. Viktor had just asked Yakov to be Yuuri's temporary foster coach so he could go tend to his dog back in Japan. Apparently Makkachin choked on food or something, landing herself a trip to the emergency vet. Ridiculous dog.

After Yakov begrudgingly accepted, Yuri kept his face as passive as he possibly could while avoiding his Katsudon's searching eyes. He was honestly dreading the conversation they'd promised to have later what with how he was feeling at the moment. The lingering jealousy was a crawling sensation just below the skin, making him want to tear it out as if it were a tangible thing. He wanted to purge this black feeling, to get back to the bright warmth he'd felt before Viktor placed his lips on his Katsudon. Again. He subtly shook his shoulders as if the motion could dislodge the weight of his own emotional turmoil. 

He stood by Lilia as his coach reluctantly accepted Yuuri into the fold, his Katsudon timidly stepping forward to officially introduce himself. Viktor clapped his hand on Yuuri's shoulder, pulling him off to the side to wish him good luck and a tight hug before he tearing off in the direction of the exit, and Yuri briefly wished his dark look could burn his once-mentor. He met Yuuri's eyes fleetingly before darting off to the side, jaw clenched so tight he could hear the protest from his teeth. From his periphery, his Katsudon looked lost, like he had absolutely no idea what could possibly have upset Yuri. 

Yakov grumbled about everyone needing sleep before tomorrow's competition, and for once Yuri couldn't agree more. Just the mention of rest doubled the weight of his limbs. He was pretty sure he was going to sleep like a stone as soon as his head hit the pillow. He watched as his coach and Lilia left for the elevators, waiting a moment before trailing behind them, gesturing for his Katsudon to follow. Yakov held the elevator for them, which Yuri waved off. They'd catch the next one.  _ Might as well get this over with, right? _

The tension was thick as they waited for the lift, the couple of inches between them feeling like  miles of distance. It made Yuri's stomach twist even further than the envy had. He was starting to feel nauseous, and wondered if Yuuri felt anything resembling what he was. His pallor, the frown tugging at his lips and the faint crease between his brows all but confirmed it. Yuri wanted nothing more than to cross that ocean between them, but refused to give in until this matter was settled.

The  _ ding _ snapped him out of his reverie and the two boarded the elevator. Yuri glared at the people in the hall, broadcasting how unwelcome any other passengers would be, and smashed the button to close the door quicker so that no one could intrude on their conversation. He frowned to himself as he hit the button for his Katsudon's floor. Yuri refused to have this conversation in his room, giving him no escape should he need it. 

Behind him, a questioning noise filled the space. Yuri just shook his head, adding to the tense atmosphere. 

About fifteen hours later, the lift finally stopped, and Yuri didn't wait for his Katsudon to lead the way. He knew exactly where the room was. He reached the door, turning to watch Yuuri hesitantly amble his way to him. Yuri's already short patience was veering into critically thin territory.

“Do you want to have this conversation out here, Katsudon?” He couldn't soften the edges of his barbed tone even if he'd had half a mind to try. His nerves and patience were shot and he was ready for the itch beneath his skin to quell. 

Yuuri grimaced in response, giving his head a sharp shake. He unlocked the door and waited just long enough for Yuri to clear the door before shutting it firmly behind him.

Before Yuri could even open his mouth, his Katsudon cut in with a harsh, “what the hell is going on with you?”

Yuri gaped in indignation. “Are you fucking serious? You have  _ no _ idea what could  _ possibly _ have pissed me off tonight?”

Yuuri just looked at him expectantly. 

“Oh, I have no idea, Katsudon.” Yuri knew his spitting tone was dipping into caustic territory, a slippery slope that he couldn't stop himself from sliding down despite the gobsmacked look creeping on Yuuri's face. “Maybe because Viktor had his lips on what's  _ mine. _ _ Again. _ As if he has  _ any  _ right to, he just kisses you in public -  _ multiple times, might I add _ \- in front of me, in front of the  _ entire fucking world." _ Yuri didn't know when his body decided to move right into his Katsudon's space, but he could see the raised brows and the wide eyes and the parted lips and the fucking wince as his voice broke and Yuuri's facial expression's steady descent into the realm of ‘shattered’ as Yuri steamrolled over his Katsudon's weak protestations with his irrepressible verbal outpour. His eyes dropped to the floor. “You say you don't have  _ feelings _ for Viktor, but yet you allow him to be so...so...handsy with you? That's not even mentioning that fucking kiss at the Cup of China, and-”

“Yuri!” Two warm, shaking hands tightly gripped Yuri's cheeks, tilting his head up to meet shining eyes. His Katsudon’s voice was this side of distressed. “That kiss only happened because Viktor wanted to surprise me more than I surprised him!” The incredulity must have been apparent because the magnitude of Yuuri's doe eyes increased tenfold. “I swear, it meant nothing to me. I-I was so uncomfortable and I didn't exactly ask for it. I didn't want it. Viktor kind of just bulldozed me, and…” Yuuri gave a helpless shrug. “The kiss on my skate...I didn't know he was going to do that either and by the time he did, I didn't know what to do about it. There were people everywhere, and I could see you were angry, but there was nothing I could do by that point... I just wanted to make sure I could wish you luck, but your face…” Yuuri looked lost, voice going hoarse for a moment before he cleared his throat, continuing. “Please, Yuri. I didn't mean to hurt you. I meant what I said last night, and earlier. I would never toy with you like that.” His desperate tone hardened along with his eyes. “I also talked to Viktor while you were on the ice. It shouldn't happen again.”

Yuri jerked in place, eyes widening at the dark tone of his Katsudon's voice, a familiar electric shock running through him. He furrowed his brows, scowling, trying to unsuccessfully hide the flush of arousal that had to have been apparent on his porcelain skin. “Oh yeah? And what did he say?” 

Tight hands gripped his own, pulling him over to sit down on the bed beside Yuuri. His Katsudon ran his other hand down his face, sighing. 

“After you rushed off, we left the kiss and cry so I could watch you skate. Viktor was getting a little too cozy-” Yuri scoffed to convey his message of  _ ‘no shit’ _ , and his Katsudon rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Anyway, I told him to back off. He's not as vapid or unobservant as he likes to pretend he is sometimes. He  _ knows _ he doesn't really have the right to be affectionate with me like that.” Yuuri's tone slipped into one of indignation. “He told me he thought I needed someone ‘older and more mature.’ He said he was ‘reading positive signals’ from me. I've never given him any indication of that…” His voice trailed off in the face of Yuri's own disbelief.

“‘Never given him any indication?’ Katsudon, until last night,  _ I  _ thought you wanted Viktor. You were always so doe-eyed around him. It was ridiculous.” Yuri looked off, dejected, jaw clenched as he tried to recall the epiphanic feeling he'd had when JJ hit him with the truth just earlier that day. He  _ knew _ Yuuri's feelings toward Viktor were platonic, but thinking of how close they were still made his stomach roil. He would rather willing drink eye drops than admit it, but he sighed, shoulders slumping a bit as admitted, “I know you say it was all for me, but it isn't exactly difficult to see how that could be misinterpreted…” 

Yuuri sheepishly cringed. “Yeah, that's about the gist of what Viktor said. He had that weird, fake smile he wears sometimes and brushed it off, but I'm pretty sure he knows where I stand now.” His Katsudon shyly ran his thumb of Yuri's knuckles, face aflame. “I explicitly told him how I felt about you. Even if I hadn't, I'm sure he would have seen it all over my face watching you out there on the ice. God, you’re so beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off of you.”

Yuri wasn't sure how much he could more of this he could handle. His heart felt so much lighter with the weight of his insecurity and jealousy sliding off his chest. His palms itched to drag his Katsudon over to him, have the older man freshen those bites marks left last night, to return the favor and make some of his own. 

Instead, he refocused on the conversation still at hand, scowling. “I fucked up. Badly. I botched that damned triple axel. My movements were too harsh for the theme. My head wasn't in it at all and-” Two warm fingers pressed gently to his lips, effectively cutting off the self-directed ire.

“You were  _ beautiful. _ Even though you flubbed things a bit, you were still…” His Katsudon shook his head with an expression bordering on awe. “Honestly, Yuri, you're one of the best skaters I know, and I'm not saying that because I'm a little biased.” His face read teasing, but his tone was serious as he cupped Yuri's flushed cheek in his hand, foreheads gently meeting. Fond, chocolate eyes met wide, viridescent ones. “Don't do this to yourself, Yuri. One imperfect run isn't going to do much harm. You picked it back up in the second half of your short program, and you'll pick it back up tomorrow and do better in your freeskate. Just know that  _ I  _ thought you were amazing.”

Yuri didn't bother hiding the small smile from his Katsudon. Taking a deep breath, he let himself relax. “I was thinking of you. That-that last half, you know, I just...cleared my mind and thought of...how you make me, ah... _ feel." _ Yuri's closed his eyes, willing away the embarrassment that wanted to make itself present, but he knew his honesty would make the older man happy.

Yuri was rewarded when he heard a hitch in Yuuri's breath. He opened his eyes and was granted by the sight of his Katsudon's cheeks flushing, corners of his lips pulling into a grin as his hands drop to toy with the neck of Yuri's  _ Agape _ costume. “Oh yeah? Interestingly enough,  _ you _ were on  _ my _ mind the entire time I skated my  _ Eros." _

It was Yuri's turn for hitched breath, remembering the passion and the almost tangible  _ feeling _ kis Katsudon poured into his movements, the freedom and abandon in his face, the costume fabric pulling taut across Yuuri's chest, his thighs, his  _ ass. _ He was a sight to behold. Yuri licked his lips as his eyes trailed over that exact fabric before him. 

In a sudden move of his typical grace, Yuri neatly swung himself into his Katsudon's lap, reversing their positioning from last night. His looked into those wide, brown eyes for a moment before crushing his lips to Yuuri's. A muffled moan escaped the older man's lips and suddenly there were familiar hands digging into his hair. God, Yuri was already developing a kink for this shit. He knew his Katsudon had a fixation on his hair, but last night was a revelation for how much he  _ liked _ his hair being fixated upon. Every tug threw electric heat through him, ripping involuntary whimpers from his lips. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Yuri decided  _ two can play at that game. _ He made quick work of both of their jackets before dragging his fingers back to Yuuri's costume zipper, tugging down an inch before stopping, raising a brow in question. At the enthusiastic nod, Yuri continued as Yuuri pressed kisses into his neck, making him stumble along the way. After far too long, the zip met its end and Yuri pulled back with a sharp smirk, lightly setting his fingers to tease over that distracting little part in the front of the costume neck ( _ that showcased Yuuri's biteable Adam's apple that he would  _ definitely _ mark up one day, Yuri might add) _ , dragging down over the asymmetrical, curved lines of the  _ Eros _ costume, drinking in the sight of fluttering eyes and parted lips as he slid off his Katsudon's lap. He missed the hands in his hair as soon as they left.  _ They'll be back soon enough. _ With anxious eyes he smirked, situating himself on his knees between Yuuri's legs, swallowing nervously but never stopping the flow of his fingers on those lines. 

He hesitantly ran the backs of his fingers gently over the hardened length trapped beneath the fabric. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room as their eyes met and Yuuri's face screwed up in pleasure at the simple touch. Biting his lip, Yuri gently tugged the fabric at Yuuri's wrists, slowly removing it from his Katsudon's arms, baring himself to the hips.

“Last night, I said I-I wanted to taste you too. I want to cash in on that now.” He said breathlessly, meeting his Katsudon's eyes steadily in an approximation of complete confidence, forcing himself not to waver. 

_ “Kuso.  _ Are you sure? You don't have to do this unless you wa-” Yuri cut him off with a growl, and he fucking  _ shuddered. _ “I...yes, fuck,  _ please,” _ was his desperate response. Yuuri's head tilted down just right into the shadows so that his glasses were clear of reflection. His eyes smoldered into Yuri's, hazy with lust as they set another wave of heated arousal through Yuri. 

Mirroring the teasing he'd received last night, Yuri dragged the backs of his nails up Yuuri's outer thighs, gripping the fabric of the costume and underwear to tug them both down at once. His Katsudon's body roll to aid in sliding the material under his ass was a fucking religious experience. Skaters’ bodies were always in fantastic shape, but  _ damn. _ Following Yuuri's abdominals as they shifted under literally perfect skin was enough to make the straightest of men weak. Watching his -  _ whatever, he'll ask  _ after  _ he gets Yuuri off  _ \- cock swing proudly toward himself was enough to make Yuri drool as he pressed a harsh hand to his own cock through his clothes in an attempt to stave off his straining erection.

Catching the mix of amusement and bashfulness on the older man's face was enough to snap him out it. He scowled as he wiped the side of his mouth, embarrassed, and forcefully pulled the costume to Yuuri's ankles. He noted that Yuuri's hands gripped tight into the comforter on either side of him, twitching toward Yuri as if he was fighting to keep them to himself. God, he wanted to make the man below him lose that carefully guarded control.

He knew his Katsudon knew how new he was to all of this, but he wondered if Yuuri could tell he was taking notes from last night as he gently pressed his teeth into the meat of the older man's inner thighs. Jerking beneath him, Yuuri moaned as he slid his teeth upward, not really biting down, but creating little trails of red over his Katsudon's thighs. Yuuri's thighs trembled as he moved on to the other thigh, bypassing the swollen length entirely. He gave a facsimile of an innocent smile, keeping his eyes trained on his Katsudon's as he marked up Yuuri's other thigh. 

Yuuri's mouth fell open on a moan, hips jerking forward as his hands made an aborted motion toward Yuri's head before curling into fists that rested on his thighs. Scowling, Yuri bit down into the nearest patch of soft flesh. 

_ “Fuck!” _ Yuuri cried out, hands finding the Yuri's hair  _ (finally) _ and pulling tight, unlatching the younger man from his thigh. He used the leverage on Yuri's head to tilt his face to meet his own.  _ “Please, _ Yuri. I-I want...  _ Onegai.” _

Yuri wasn't sure if he'd ever been this hard before. If he'd read Yuuri's signals right last night, it seemed he had a  _ thing _ for when Yuri spoke Russian. It would appear that a language kink was a  _ thing _ Yuri has as well.

His eyes rolled back as Yuuri’s grip in his hair shifted, pulling Yuri's head where he wanted him. He shouldered his Katsudon's legs wider and wrapped his arms under them, gripping into his thighs as he let himself be guided. At the feeling of the warm, plush skin of Yuuri cock against his lips, he shoved down any residual anxiety and tentatively flicked his tongue out to finally get a taste.  _ Jesus fuck, _ Yuuri was sensitive. One small lick drew out a whimper _. _ Shuddering, Yuri pressed open-mouthed kisses to the head of his Katsudon's cock, gradually growing sloppier with the execution. 

Yuri may not have any desire to worship a deity, but  _ fuck, _ did he want to worship this man before him. Yuuri's thighs rippled beneath his hands as he finally opened his mouth wide, remembering to cover his teeth with his lips like his Katsudon had done last night, letting that hot, hard length in. 

Broken pleas in Japanese rung out into the room as Yuri slowly took more of Yuuri's cock into his mouth. He took his time running his tongue over veins, noting the the difference in texture between the head and the shaft, playing with the looser skin of the frenulum and foreskin, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue, hollowing out his cheeks before testing his gag reflex. He mentally grumbled when he found he couldn't take Yuuri all the way down -  _ yet, _ his mind supplied. He set a fist at the base where he couldn't quite reach, sucking the length back into his mouth after a quick clearing of his throat.

Yuuri's grip in his hair readjusted to push his hair out of his face. He quaked, crying out when Yuri hit a particularly sensitive spot  _ (he particularly liked sucking at the very tip) _ , hips consistently making little aborted movements like he wanted to fuck Yuri's mouth and  _ shit, Yuri could get behind that. _

He pushed back long enough to tell his Katsudon just that, and the resounding keen was well worth the overenthusiastic first thrust. Yuri pulled back laughing through the coughing fit, waving off Yuuri's breathless apologies. 

“Jesus, Katsudon, didn't you learn anything from last night?” He teased, shaking his head and grinning like a fool before making an attempt to slide into something more seductive. “Let's try that again,  _ da? _ Oh, and keep your hands in my hair. I like when you direct me to where you want me.”

Not waiting for a response, Yuri wrapped his lips back around his Katsudon's cock, sucking the head in to rest on his tongue, waiting. Sure enough after a second’s pause, fingers wove back into his hair, clutching tightly, pulling his head onto those last few inches to his fist. 

It was like a switch flipped, and Yuri fucking  _ loved _ it. Where before his Katsudon was controlled, cautious and gentle, now… Now, he was just shy of animalistic, fucking Yuri's mouth onto his cock, taking his pleasure with his head thrown back in abandon with the look of bliss of his face, throwing caution to the wind. Yuuri's hips roughly ground into the mix, pushing even further, and  _ this _ was heaven.

Yuri dug his fingers into Yuuri's thick thighs, giving a particularly hard suck and his Katsudon  _ sobbed,  _ voice the definition of desperate _. “Yu-Yuri, fuuuuck… Kuso, _ c-can I come in your mouth?  _ Please _ .” 

Yuri moaned deeply, nodding as enthusiastically as he could with his mouth full in response. Throwing his own caution to the wind, he removed his fist just as his Katsudon pulled him back onto his cock. Yuuri cried out in surprise as he came, cock jerking as he buried himself in Yuri's throat. 

The fingers gripping into his hair pulled tight enough to bring tears to his eyes. Yuri made a point of looking into his Katsudon's eyes as the tears spilled, swallowing around the length (as much to swallow the come flooding him as to actively fight his gag reflex). Yuuri's face screwed up as he looked into Yuri's teary eyes, legs tightening around Yuri's shoulders, hips jerking his cock even further in as he spurted the last of his spend into the teen's throat. With one last deeply pleased sigh, he untangled his fingers from Yuri's hair and fell back onto his elbows, trying to catch his breath.

Being the little shit Yuri knew he could be, he sucked as hard he could, slowly pulling himself off of Yuuri's length and being rewarded with full-bodied spasms and heaved  _ “ha, ha, ha”’s. _

_“God,_ I love you, Yuri,” his Katsudon said with a rapturous smile on his face tilted to the ceiling after catching his breath. _God,_ Yuri would never get sick of hearing that. Yuuri's glasses were crooked, and the high points of his cheeks were stained pink, and his lips were plump and bitten, and his eyes were the warmest brown Yuri had ever seen, and his hair was a wreck, and _god,_ those _abs._ Yuri’s cock twitched. _Fuck,_ he needed to come. He was sure the accumulation of all of these things would one day be the death of him, but _not today._

Yuri surged to his feet, throwing off his shoes, ripping his costume off as gently as he could, sitting it off to the side. He tore off his underwear and climbed back up to straddle Yuuri's hips, pushing at his shoulders until he was flat on his back. He feverishly pressed his lips to his Katsudon's, fucking his cock onto Yuuri's stomach.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Yuuri said, gripping Yuri’s hips and stopping him in his tracks. 

_ What? _ He only had a moment to freak out before those strong hands slid to grip his ass, pulling him forward to knee-walk himself over Yuuri's face.  _ Fuck. _ When he was placed where his Katsudon wanted him, he resettled so that his knees were on either side of Yuuri's head with strong hands still clinging his hips. 

Yuuri looked up at him, quickly setting his glasses off to the side and licked his lips. “Is this okay?” At Yuri's gulp and breathless assent, he give him a nerve-tinged smile before opening his mouth, inviting him in.

“I'm not going to last long,” he warned before tipping his cock down into Yuuri's welcoming mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as he was engulfed in tight, wet heat. Those strong hands guided him to fuck in and out of his Katsudon's mouth. One of Yuri's hands flew into Yuuri's hair, catching slightly in the disintegrating gel as the other flew to his own, lost in the pleasure of the guided facefuck. His moaning grew in desperation with each stroke into the older man's mouth. 

Just when he felt he was getting close to the breaking point, the hands on his hips slid up his back, gently pushing until he had to catch himself on his hands on the bed. He looked down in confusion. “What?”

Yuuri's response was to grip his hip with one hand, wrapping the other into a fist around the base of his cock, pushing him up out of his mouth and then pulling him back in. His mouth dropped as he realized what he was being invited to do. 

“Really,  _ really  _ not going to last long,” he warned, panting. He fucked himself into his Katsudon’s mouth a total of three times before his fingers tore into the blanket. “Yu- _ Yuuri, I'm gonna come!” _

Yuuri redoubled his efforts of sucking him down and seemed to take a page from Yuri's book this time, removing the fist from his cock the last few thrusts. Yuri gave one loud, broken moan as he emptied himself into his Katsudon's mouth, cock jerking against the feeling of Yuuri's throat convulsing him as he swallowed Yuri's spend. Yuri couldn't help but give a few more lazy grinds into that beautiful fucking mouth before raising up on shaky legs, pulling his softening cock out and flopping onto his side. Yuuri coughed as he starfished.

Eventually they both lazily crawled up to the bed, Yuuri's  _ Eros _ costume still dangling off his ankles as he made a halfhearted attempt to kick it off, Yuri's hair a veritable bird's nest created by his Katsudon's aggressive hands. The looked at each other, breath evening out. Yuri couldn't contain himself as he broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Yuuri looked back at him with a bewildered smile, confusedly chuckling along. 

After a minute or two, Yuri settled back down and his Katsudon gave him a curious, warm smile. “What was all that about?” 

“Just thinking about the last 24 hours. Hell, just the last couple of them were crazy. I was honestly prepared to end the day pissed, and look where we are now.” Yuri said with a disbelieving smile. 

Yuuri leaned in, kissing him slowly. It was a kiss of apologies and forgiveness, of affection and understanding, of letting go of extraneous jealousy and basking in the intimacy they'd just shared. 

“Me too, you know,” Yuri said after they'd separated and his Katsudon settled into his arms. Yuuri made a questioning noise. “I…” Frustrated with himself, he sighed. “I know how I  _ feel, _ but I don't feel comfortable  _ saying _ it yet, so I won't. You...deserve better than some, some...uncomfortable declaration or something. I want to say it when it feels right to say it. So, for now...me too. I hope that makes sense.” He closed his eyes, refusing to look at his Katsudon's face in fear that his explanation might not be good enough. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt the man he loved, but he just  _ couldn't _ say it yet. He wasn't ready.

A warm hand tipped his head toward his Katsudon, foreheads meeting. “That's enough for me, Yuri. You don't have to say anything until you're ready, but...knowing is enough.” 

Yuri felt the sting of tears trying to creep into his eyes  _ (god, what the fuck) _ as he pressed himself closer to his Katsudon, pressing kisses to everywhere he could reach. Being loved and accepted exactly as he was wasn't something he was used to beyond his  _ Dedushka, _ and the warmth of the easy acceptance and reciprocation of his feelings was something he could get drunk off of.  

After what could have been 10 minutes or 10 years of reveling in the contentment, “Dinosaur” by Kesha blasted from his phone on the floor. With a deep, exasperated groan, Yuri reluctantly got up to answer the phone. He wished he could ignore it, but considering the actual shitshow that was this afternoon, he wasn't planning on creating a repeat event. He answered the phone and sorted his shit out in under a minute. He sighed, picking up his costume, turning back to Yuuri.

“I should probably go. That was Yakov reminding me that I’d better get some sleep if I want to be rested and ready for the free skate tomorrow. I'd rather not leave, but…” He trailed off apologetically. 

“Hey, it's okay. I should honestly get some rest too, and I can't promise we'd get much sleep of you stayed. Anyway, borrow some of my clothes so you don't have to put your costume back on. You'll see me tomorrow, I'm sure of it.” Yuuri leered playfully.

Yuri rolled his eyes with a soft smile. “I can't believe my boyfriend is such a dork.” He said as he hunted for some clothes. He got dressed in the comfiest sweats and T-shirt he could find before turning back to Yuuri. Being met his Katsudon's raised brows and wide eyes, he retraced his last words. He reddened and his face flashed to fear before blanking, straightening up into an approximation of his usual aggressive stance, fists clenched as the nerves collected around his eyes. “Well? Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?” 

The shock on his Katsudon's face melted into that smile that embodied Yuri's mental world of syrupy feelings that he'd channeled earlier. It was a smile that made him feel like he was filled with helium and set his heart to trip over itself. It was tattooed into his mind, and he never wanted it to fade. 

_ “H-hai! _ I-I mean, yes!  _ Da!" _ his Katsudon said through his beaming smile.

And now it was Yuri's turn to reflect that sticky-sweet, affectionate smile. He bit his lip, trying to contain his smile to an acceptable maximum as he put his shoes and jacket back on. He went back to the bed and gave Yuuri a deep, filthy kiss before pulling back. He didn't even try to stop himself from laying down a few pecks afterward as well, even as Yuuri laughed against his lips.

He grinned and walked away, pulling his hair into a ponytail ( _ he was  _ not _ trying to look as if he’d just been fucked while walking through the halls, thank you very much _ ). He messed with his hair a bit in the mirror on the wall as his Katsudon watched with darkening eyes before grabbing his costume, leaving with a shy smile and a wave. 

  
Yuri snorted to himself as he walked to the elevator, shaking his head fondly, feeling as if he could float. With how much they both liked his hair, maybe he'd just let it grow for the foreseeable future. He wondered what Yuuri would think about waist-length hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I used a couple Japanese/Russian terms in here and once again, I could be wrong on these, so if you catch any errors, please let me know!
> 
> пизда - pussy  
> Kuso - fuck  
> Onegai - please (Thank you, NYAAselina!)
> 
> Shout out to my B (aka missbip0lar on here - check her out for A+ smut and sin) for reading it over and giving me encouragement through the process.
> 
> Come join me on [tumblr](https://kafrickinboom.tumblr.com/) to gush over our rarepair OTPs! (I ship pretty much all of them)


End file.
